Alive?
by Karen-Charlene
Summary: Set after episode 10x16 'The Panty Sniffer.' Catherine deals with life after the Bell incident. Written from Catherine's POV.


**Disclaimer: I don't own CSI nor the characters; Anthony E. Zuiker and CBS do.**

**Rating: K+.**

**A/N: I wrote this story a while ago and decided to post it now. Set after episode 10x16 'The Panty Sniffer.' Written from Catherine's POV.**

* * *

**Alive**

The palm of my hand is pressing firmly against his face and I grit my teeth as I try oh, so desperately to push him away from me. All coherent thoughts are gone from my head as all I can see is the barrel of his gun against my face. A bullet can escape out any second and I know that I'm hung between life and death.

People say that when you feel like you're about to die, your whole life passes through your mind. I've always doubted this stupid cliché, but I know now that it's true.

The last few hours with Lou pass through my mind. We've been seeing each other for two months now, and being undercover, alone, in a hotel room brought us closer than we'd thought it would. He told me about his son and his expectations of our relationship, and I told him about Lindsey and our fight.

Suddenly, the thoughts about my last moments with Lou are replaced by my last conversation with Lindsey. Can I even call text messaging a conversation? Our last conversation was an argument and I didn't even get to hear her voice. There are so many things I still want to do with my daughter and say to her. She's not even 18 yet. I don't want her to think that it's her fault. I want her to move on with her life, go to college, have her own family.

This is it. The decisive moment has arrived. All the thoughts about my life, the people I love, my boyfriend and daughter, and all the people I haven't had the chance to say goodbye to are gone as it all becomes blank.

A bullet is fired.

And another one.

The room goes silent. Deadly silent. I have never, in my entire life, heard this kind of silence. It is as if the whole world just stopped.

Bell's face muscles go weak against my hand and I feel his weight on my body as he collapses on top of me with a thud. I tremble as I try to gather myself together and register in my head what has just happened. As I turn my head aside, I notice Lou standing with his gun in his hands, aimed towards me and Bell, and his eyes closed. I breathe a long sigh of relief as the realization sinks in: Lou has just killed Bell and saved my life.

As I push Bell's dead, heavy body off of me, I notice all the blood on my chest. Bell's blood.

I'm alive and I'm not hurt. Bell didn't kill me. I can't feel any wound; actually, I can't feel anything. The shock has made me go numb.

I turn my head again and see that Lou has dropped his gun beside his feet, but his eyes are still closed as if he is trying to make some order in his head; rearrange his thoughts. His chest rises and sinks rapidly and I can hear his heavy, shaky breath all the way to where I lie quietly, numbly. I slowly get up and walk over to him, but he still doesn't open his eyes.

"Lou," I say softly as I touch the top of his arm lightly to get him to open his eyes, but it doesn't work. "Lou, look me at."

I sigh in relief when he finally opens his eyes and I can see how watery they are. A single tear manages to escapes his left eye, no matter how hard he's trying to keep it inside, and slowly rolls down his cheek. I have never seen him so overwhelmed.

"Lou, you okay?" I ask, but he doesn't answer. Instead, he pulls out his radio and declares a 4-19. I can see that he can't take his eyes off Bell's lifeless body, but I can't bring myself to turn around and look at him. This guy has just tried to kill me and then died on top of me. I'm not that strong.

I hear Lou sigh heavily and shakily and I can see that he's seeking comfort just like me. In an attempt to help him, I rest my forehead on his shoulder, but he doesn't return the touch. His shoulder is so tense.

* * *

The following night, at work, I decide to go see him. I know I should probably stay at home and rest after almost dying, but work distracts me and helps me move on, just like after Sam died.

I remember fighting with my father just before he died. I blamed him for Lindsey's kidnapping. I saw how Joe Hirschoff pulled out his gun; I saw how the bullet hit Sam's chest; I felt his heavy body collapsing against me, pushing me down along with him; I saw how the blood started pouring out of his wound; I saw how his body guard shot Joe in the back. I tried to save Sam; applied pressure on his wound, called for help, but it was pointless. I didn't even get to say goodbye to my father and he died thinking I hated him, even though I'd forgiven him a long time ago. Work was the only thing that took my mind off his death, and it is doing the job now, after I nearly met Sam again.

I knock on Lou's office door, but there's no response. I saw him walking into the office earlier, though, so I know he's in there. He's probably just really busy with paperwork, but I really need to talk to him. We didn't get a chance to talk at the hotel when the police came and took Joe's body away and Lou was questioned. He completely ignored me and I had the feeling that he was somewhat mad at me. I know it wasn't because of me, however. He was just shaken up a little after shooting someone.

I open the door without waiting for an invitation and step inside the office. He's sitting behind his desk, his hands holding his head as he looks at some photos on his desk. His face is pale and his shoulders are slumped, and suddenly, he doesn't look as strong and tough as he always does; he looks weak.

He doesn't notice me, so I decide to just start talking. "Lou, we need to talk."

He doesn't reply; doesn't even look up. Damn it, he acts as if he isn't even aware of the fact that I'm in his office. I know he's still shaken up, but I'm sick of him ignoring me. We need to talk about what happened at the hotel.

"Lou, you're not going to feel any better if you don't talk to anyone," I say. "Please talk to me."

His hands finally drop to his desk and he shakes his head slowly. "You had to be so stupid, didn't you?" he mumbles.

"Stupid?" I say in disbelief and feel how the anger starts to fill me. "I saved your life, Lou! How 'bout a little thank you?"

He shakes his head again and gets up. I wait for him to say something, but he doesn't. He just rounds his desk and brushes past me on his way out of the office, leaving me completely shocked and offended behind. How dare he behave this way toward me? I fucking saved his life! He should be thankful, not ignore me. So you had to shoot someone to save me. Okay, so we're even. But get over it!

Angrily, I storm out of his office and march out of PD. Fuck him. He doesn't want to talk? He wants to blame me? Then so be it. We've been dating for only two months, I don't owe him anything. I have work to do now. I don't need to worry about my relationship problems.

I return to the lab and brush past people on my way to my office. I'm glad they don't try to stop me or ask how I am because I'm in no mood for talking to anyone, especially about the events at the hotel.

As I'm about to open the door to my office, I realize that it's already open. What the hell? I always leave it closed when I'm not in my office. I probably forgot to lock it. I sigh as I realize just how tired I really am. I've been working all night, no surprise I forget things. I'll leave early and go home to get some rest. Yep, sounds like a good idea. Maybe I'll even get to see Linds before she leaves for school.

* * *

After I close the front door, I drop my brief case on the floor, take off my shoes, and walk upstairs. The house is quiet; Lindsey's probably still asleep.

When I reach the door to her room, I ease it open, careful not to make any noise so I don't wake her up. I smile as I see her lay on her bed with her school uniform. She was probably really tired and fell asleep still wearing it. I'm so glad to have the chance to see her. When I was lying beneath Bell, I was sure I was going to die and never see my daughter again, never have the chance to hug her and tell her how much I love her.

I quietly walk over to her bed and sit down on the edge. Her back is to me and I gently stroke her soft, golden hair. But then, I see something in her hand. It's a picture, a picture of the two of us. Why would she be holding it? I try to take a glimpse of her face and I see tear tracks there. Was she crying herself to sleep? And while looking at a picture of us? What's going on?

My heart starts beating faster as I get up. I don't know why it's beating like that, but I can sense that something is wrong. I try to shake her gently, wake her up, but she won't move nor wake up. My heart beats faster. I check her pulse and let out a sigh of relief. She's breathing. Then why can't I wake her up?

I quickly leave the room and go downstairs, grab my keys, and leave the house. I don't know why, but I have a feeling that something is wrong. I need to talk to Lou. I know he doesn't want to talk to me right now and I remember our short argument in his office earlier, but I really need to talk to someone right now.

* * *

The way down the corridors at PD seems to take forever. It feels as though his office is miles away, although I can see it just a few meters from where I am. No matter how quickly I walk, however, it takes me so long.

Finally, I reach his office and don't even knock before opening the door and walking inside. I look around, but he's not in the office. But the photos he was looking at earlier are still on his desk. I slowly walk over to his desk, my heart beating faster with every step I make, and I finally see them; crime scene photos.

Then my heart stops.

I can't breath.

There are two bodies in the photos: Bell's, with a gunshot wound to the cheek, and mine… with a gunshot to the chest.

I try to touch the photos, but I can't feel them. I can see my fingertips touching them, but I can't feel anything. I feel numb.

The blood on my chest, the feeling of numbness, Lou ignoring me, no one asking me about the events at the hotel, my daughter crying herself to sleep while looking at a picture of us… it all starts to make sense.

Suddenly, the numb feeling is gone. I feel a hand on my shoulder. The hand is big and warm and I feel somewhat comforted. I close my eyes and turn around. When I feel that I'm facing the owner of the head, I try to open my eyes - a task that seems to take forever. It feels as though they don't want to open, to see who's standing there; to know that truth. But they already know the truth; I already know the truth.

My eyes finally open and I meet a pair of blue eyes, just like mine. The man standing in front of me looks old and has white hair and eye brows. He has this small, calm smile on his face, which helps me relax. He's wearing the same clothes he'd worn the last time I saw him, and he looks just the same, but the bleeding gunshot wound to his chest is no longer there.

With a reassuring smile, he squeezes my shoulder lightly. His voice is calm as he says, "It's nice to see you again, Muggs."

* * *

**DON'T KILL ME.**

**And don't forget to review ;) Thanks for reading.**

**-Zohar.**


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